Disclaimer: I own nothing – at least nothing Transformers related.

Thanks to mdnytryder for correcting and betaing.

25/28 III Transforming (G1 AU, post-war)

Wake up, wake up:
There's an angel in the snow.
Look up, look up:
It's a frightened dead boy,
With so much hate, such bad dreams.
He could have seen…
~Boy and the Ghost by Tarja~

Starscream stared into the familiar faceplates right across from his own, so close that the air from his vents would have caressed the dark plating - if he had still been alive.

The ghost was huddled close to the other winged frame, almost close enough to touch but not quite close enough, still hesitating. He just lay there, watching, searching the empty face in front of him, and tracing the familiar features with his optics over and over again.

So close and yet so far….

It was strange to be dead.

To be a ghost.

To exist but not live – but then again, had he ever really lived before?

He wasn't quite sure.


Starscream hesitated, then he slowly extended his hand, concentrated on giving his limb some corporeality, and began to carefully caress the faceplates with his fingertips.
He traced the familiar features, followed the lines on the other's cheeks, and stroked the unmoving brows….

Starscream felt nothing, but he refused to give up. He had nothing left to lose, so why not cling to this latest desperate hope?

No longer bound to time and space, he had tried to use this opportunity to his advantage.

He had traveled back in time, over and over again, to comfort the lonely Sparkling in his harsh, cold world, to lead the running Youngling to safety, to keep Skyfire from crashing and taking Starscream's life with him, to find a true friend for the mourning not-yet-adult-not-quite-Youngling sobbing in the outskirts of Kaon, to search for a trine ready to be his family, to keep himself from becoming prey to the master of all manipulators….

The ghost had tried over and over again, whispering, pleading, luring and begging his younger self and all the other mechs around him to not let history repeat itself, to spare him his fate – until he could finally do nothing other than accept that he had no effect on his own destiny and all the other lives entwined with it.

He could just watch everything from the sidelines and suffer while his hopes were crushed again and again until nothing but dust remained of his broken Spark.

He was helpless once again.

Helpless and alone.

Translucent blue fingers stroked over a wing, rubbing it in a way meant to comfort, while pale cheeks rubbed dark metal, trying to show affection, as Starscream had seen others give and receive.

He let a non-existing engine purr, a desperate, questioning little sound that produced neither vibrations, nor the calming effect he had hoped for.

The ghost opted for embracing the lifeless shell in front of him instead, mumbling little snippets of lullabies and gentle words, everything he had ever wished to hear, rocking it back and fro as much as he was able to.

Everything would be alright, everything was alright and he didn't have to be afraid –

And he just didn't want to be alone anymore….

With a sob Starscream had to release the body in his arms, his concentration wavering in his desperation.

The ghost dove into the white, red and blue Seeker body, so similar to the one he had called his own, and hurried to possess it, to temporarily link his Spark to all the lines and feeds inside the metal shell.

Unicron had betrayed Starscream when he had gifted him with the body.

The dark god had promised him a new life, but he had just given the hopeful Cybertronian a shell to become temporarily corporal without having to possess another mech.
He had given Starscream a cruel mockery of life and laughed about the ghost's shock at discovering his treachery.

The ghost settled into a frame so similar to his lost one and yet not the same and onlined without unshuttering his optics.
He lay there, unmoving, and waited for the rest of his systems to become "alive".

Finally his nervous grid activated and he sobbed longingly, as he felt the afterimages of his own previous touches on "his" plating, gifting him with a few precious seconds in which he could pretend that he wasn't all alone on a rock somewhere in space, but that there was truly somebody who cared about him and would comfort him.

Starscream felt himself being pulled into a phantom embrace and smiled….

All he needed was a gentle heart
To lead him through the dark when his dreams are running wild.
When there's nowhere left to fall,
Nowhere to hide.
The silence I hurting.
Inside it's cold.

His light went out...

~Boy and the Ghost by Tarja~


AN: I thought it would be better to have a sad chapter between two funnier ones, so I changed the order around. Sorry.